


Where No Man Has Gone Before

by laelipoo



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), Star Trek, Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy - Cassandra Clare, The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alec and Lydia are only friends, Any Magnus/Other is past or hinted at, Clary is tiny and angry and you should be afraid, F/F, F/M, Good Parent Maryse Lightwood, Jace is still their adopted brother, Jace loves plants and sword fighting, Lightwood Siblings are Vulcan, M/M, Magnus also has a lot of alien paramours, Magnus rips all of his shirts, Maryse is Vulcan, Pining, Ragnor and Catarina need to just get married, Raphael is the best kind of shit, Robert Lightwood Being an Asshole, Robert is human, Simon has the worst NYC accent, gays in space, seriously, so much goddamn pining, tags as long as the fic, what are straight people?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-05 21:04:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10316933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laelipoo/pseuds/laelipoo
Summary: Magnus has spent his entire life trying to outrun his father's legacy, go farther, bebetter.Being that he's the youngest captain ever commissioned in Starfleet, and given the flagship on top of it, he's clearly doingsomethingright.These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise, and her crew. Its five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, and cause just enough havoc along the way.aka theStar TrekAU that literally no one asked for.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hello darlings!
> 
> This is totally a self-indulgent AU and I am so, so not sorry. Mostly based on episodes, with some movie and book canon thrown in. I'm cherrypicking. Oh well.
> 
> Footnotes will have any terms I think need explained. 
> 
> Requests/comments/pitchforks are all welcomed.

Space. The final frontier.

 

And, Magnus' home for the next three years.

 

Well, not that it wasn't for the last two, either, but there was a difference between serving as first officer on an envoy ship, and captain for the flagship of Starfleet.

 

Captain. Still, so, so surreal.

 

Almost as surreal as that time on Delta IV, but Magnus _did_ promise to avoid speaking of that, and exactly what happened to humanoids when exposed to that many pheromones.

 

It was a really, _really_ great weekend.

 

The shuttle was quiet, just Magnus and the pair of pilots in the cabin. It's rather soothing; the silence allowed Magnus to settle into the right headspace for meeting the five hundred souls he will be holding in the palm of his hands, so to speak. Command track was stressful, full of challenge and danger and glory, but there was nothing else Magnus wanted to do more.

 

At least he's not going _completely_ blind into this. Luke and his family had taken Magnus in, raised him when no one else would. He even selected Magnus to replace him as he (very) reluctantly took up the position of Rear Admiral. Why, when he had a brutally efficient first officer of his own, Magnus had no clue, but he _was_ grateful. Ragnor and Catarina headed up the Medical department, had ever since they all graduated from the Academy, and he would finally see them and Raphael, too - well, if he ever left the labs, the little vampire.

 

The brief rocking of the shuttle docking with the ship jarred Magnus from his thoughts. He turned in his seat, eager to get a decent look at his girl that wasn't holograms and blueprints. She was massive, elegant, glorious. Everything a flagship should be.

 

And totally his.

 

 _A Captain's first love should be his ship,_ he remembered his second year Command instructor saying, on their first day, _only to be tempered by his love of the crew._

 

A lesson his father _clearly_ never learned.

 

Thinking of him will certainly not help, and Magnus refused to let this day be spoiled by his father's shadow.

 

“Shuttle NCC-1701 _Galileo_ to _Enterprise_ , requesting permission to board three.”

 

“Shuttle NCC-1701 _Galileo_ , this is _USS Enterprise_ ,” a woman answered after a moment. She sounded calm, pleasant, almost placid, with just the hint of an accent that Magnus could not place, and he had a decent ear for language. “Your permission has been granted by Captain Garroway. Please acknowledge.”

 

“Permission acknowledged and received. _Galileo_ out.”

 

The pilots stood, and Magnus followed suit. The possessions he chose to bring along had been packed and beamed aboard overnight, but there was ceremony required to replace a crewmember. Well that, and his credentials weren't programmed in yet for a beam-up.

 

Semantics.

 

It was only a brief moment before the hull doors opened, and Magnus followed the other two men into the airlock. The exit to the shuttle shut behind them, sounding rather final. After today, things would be very different.

 

After today, there was no turning back.

 

 

And then the door shipside unlocked, slid back with a soft _hiss_ , and Magnus stepped into his future.

 

And it was _beautiful._

 

Sure, the ship was just as lovely inside as it was out, but that wasn't what drew Magnus' attention so quickly. 

 

It was the man standing at parade rest on Luke's right side, tall and broad and completely motionless. And, quite possibly, the most gorgeous man Magnus had ever seen.

 

Magnus was ready to say just that, follow it up with an invitation to dinner or shower or bed, even, but then he was all but tackled by a flying missile known to some as the Chief of Engineering.

 

To him, she was a beloved, if occasionally exasperating, little sister.

 

“Magnus!”

 

It was only due to decent reflexes that he was able to actually _catch_ her, using the leftover momentum to spin them around in place. She laughed, wild and free, and his chest tightened with just how much he _missed_ his adopted family. Traveling through space had been the best experience of his life, but it was rather lonely without the people he held dear to his heart.

 

“Biscuit, what a welcome surprise.” It's no struggle to hold Clary, given how small she was, but Magnus set her down regardless. A captain should have some sort of decorum, he supposed. Magnus straightened out his uniform before pushing Clary back just enough that he could get a decent look at her. It was two years since he's seen her last, save a video comm here and there.

 

She's hardly taller, maybe half an inch. Still fiery, pale, a smattering of freckles only broken up by the occasional scar that spoke of the dangers inherent in working in an engine bay.  Not very changed at all, if he's honest, only hints he can see because Magnus has seen them in his own reflection every morning. A glint .of darkness in his gaze, a bit of wariness that speaks of danger lurking around each corner, even when among friends.

 

He absently fixed her red shirt, arching a brow when he notices the distinct lack of regulation skirt.

 

“Still flaunting the archaic rule that 'encourages' female officers to wear that strip of fabric they call a skirt?”

 

“Damn right,” Clary said with a smile.

 

“And you have no complaints?” he asked Luke, letting one dark brow arch slightly.

 

“It's hardly practical when she spends most of her time climbing in the engine bay,” Luke reasoned, looking equal parts resigned and fond.

 

Clary just laughed, turning so she could sling an arm around Magnus' waist. Right now, he's just her big brother, in both senses of the word, not her captain. Not yet, at least.

 

“That's his professional, captain answer.”

 

“Oh? What's his non-professional answer?” Magnus asked, letting his arm settle around Clary's shoulders in return. It felt normal, felt _right_ , even though it's been so long he had started to forget the little things, like the full breadth of her smile, or the gentle way Catarina woke him up from his nightmares.

 

“Fuck 'em,” Luke and Clary said together, drawing a laugh from all three. But not from the gorgeous stranger, and so Magnus turned to actually interact with him and _not_ act like a selfish idiot, like he was so good at doing.

 

 

“Sorry, it's been a while. Magnus Bane, former commander and first officer of the _Farragut._ Currently being harassed by a small redhead-ow!” He sent Clary a look out of the corner of his eye, the redhead actually daring to pretend she hadn't just elbowed him in the gut.

 

“Commander Alec Lightwood, Chief Weapons Specialist and First Officer. I would warn you of Lieutenant-Commander Fairchild, but it seems you're well aware of her violent tendencies.”

 

 

There were packets of information, all thrown onto his PADD from Starfleet when he accepted this position. Crew bios, current duty rosters, missions past and present. So even though they have not said more than thirty words to each other,  there were some things Magnus knew about the XO of the ship, even before they officially met.

 

Alec was actually younger than him, if only by two years. He focused in applied and theoretical physics as well as electrical engineering when at the Academy, which he finished in _three years_.

 

And that was _after_ finishing the Vulcan schooling system, which he heard made the Academy look like day camp.

 

So yes, Alec was an absolute genius. That was not the most surprising fact in his file.

 

No, that was the fact that Alec was only _half_ Vulcan.

 

Magnus was actually a good student. He paid attention in his cultural studies classes, and could easily recall most of the details of Vulcan society, well, the public ones, at least. He knew not to touch, to extend the ta'al1 instead, that they favored logic and scientific facts over sentimentality and instinct any day. So the fact that Alec and his two siblings, one who was also stationed on this ship, were the products of a mother from said society and a father who, as a human, was the very definition of a people ruled by emotional responses? Yeah, Magnus was certainly shocked.

 

Not that you could tell, really. Alec was very pale, skin a washed out green in the harsh florescent light. Dark in hair and brow, there were messy curls that hid what surely had to be the pointed ears marking him as not quite human, something else. And _tall_. It was barely a few more than Magnus himself, who was already on the higher end of the height spectrum, and _very_ fit, though it was a leaner muscle tone than Magnus' own bulk.

 

“Well, now that introductions are done,” Luke said after a pause, “I suppose it's time to get the important part over with, isn't it?”

 

Magnus blinked, struggling to remember exactly what _part_ they should be getting on with, exactly. It hit him like a blow to the head, and it shocked Magnus that a pretty face could actually make him forget that he's about to get his own _ship_ , if even just for a moment. He snapped to attention, Clary stepping back and out of the way. Luke returned the salute after a moment, eyes shining with pride despite the stern look on his face.

 

“Captain Magnus Bane, reporting to relieve you, sir.”

 

“I am relieved,” Luke answered, tone dry and sarcastic. It's a bit bittersweet, Magnus achieving his dream because Luke was forced to give it up, but the older man didn't seem too upset over it. He knew Jocelyn would take comfort in actually _seeing_ her husband daily, though it would also be rough for Luke to go from seeing his daughter every day to once a year, if that.

 

It was the price they paid to serve the galaxy.

 

Magnus was startled when Luke pulled him in for a hug, brief and tight. “Take care of our girls, will you?” he asked, voice low and gruff, just for them. Magnus nodded, doing his very best to project a captainly aura and not tear up or anything. Luke held him at arm's length when he stepped back, searching his face for something. Magnus hoped he found it.

 

“Can you show me to the bridge?” he asked Alec after stepping back, wanting to give father and daughter privacy for their goodbyes. With a curt nod, Alec turned on his heel, leading the way towards what Magnus assumed was the turbolift. Magnus had done his best to memorize the layout of the ship, but some things were best learned by doing.

 

Alec's strides were swift but measured, keeping him just behind and to the side of Magnus. Done purposely, he reasoned, like most things the Vulcan did. Alec was equally as nice to stare at in profile, strong jaw, pretty mouth and those _eyes_...

 

“Did you have a request, Captain?” Alec questioned, gaze locked straight ahead. Bothered at being caught staring again, Magnus laughed. Thank god for the ability to think on his feet.

 

“Just... curious, is all.”

 

Alec turned his head, those (perfect, gorgeous, utterly amazing) eyes meeting his for a brief moment.

 

“You may ask a personal query, if that is your implied request.”

 

Well, then. Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but Vulcans didn't lie. So, if Alec said he could ask, then he meant it. Part of Magnus wanted to shoot far past propriety and go straight for lascivious, but that was not the start to a working relationship that they should really have.

 

“Did you want to be captain?” he posed instead, pausing while Alec keyed open the turbolift. Alec hit the button for the bridge when they were both inside, still silent. Just when Magnus was ready to open his mouth and apologize, the Vulcan sighed.

 

“It is logical to assume that someone with some sort of supervisory experience would endeavor to move to a higher position,” he agreed, “but I find myself content with where I am currently.”

 

There was a small, terrible part of Magnus that giggled in sick glee, that Alec was currently with _him_ so did that mean the obvious? He shoved that thought to the far back of his brain and smiled instead.

 

“Fair enough,” Magnus replied with a shrug. “So. Fill me in on all of the good shit.”

 

The look on Alec's face, confusion mixed with a bit of horror, shouldn't be making Magnus laugh as hard as it did.

 

“I fail to see how excrement is in any way good, let alone hilarious, Captain.”

 

The use of his new title startled Magnus enough that he could catch his breath, but the small grin could not be wiped from his face.

 

“It's slang, Alec. You know. Words that have come to mean other things? It means, what do I need to know before I walk into that room?”

 

Alec's eyes widen as he nodded, and Magnus could see the gears turning, the way he memorized the context of the phrase. It was rather cute, which if you asked Magnus before today, was not a word he would have used to describe anything remotely Vulcan.

 

“You wish to discuss inter-personal relationships, Captain.”

 

“Yes, Alec—wait, is it alright that I used that, or did you prefer Commander, or...?”

 

Magnus was under the impression that Luke was not terribly fond of rules and rank, except when absolutely needed, and it was a tradition he intended to continue. His last tour was far too strict in following the rules of conduct, and Magnus got so tired of being saluted to every time he entered a room.

 

“It is permissible, Captain. Given that my sibling and I tend to serve shifts together, it was easier to use our given names than our titles and family names. It is a quirk that many of the bridge crew have seemed to take to, as well. That is, unless you object?”

 

“No, no,” Magnus promised. “Feel free to, honestly. Hell, you can call me Magnus off duty, even. I don't mind. So, anyone that shouldn't be in the same room together?”

 

“I highly recommend keeping Lieutenant-Commander Fairchild and Lieutenant Wayland in separate rooms whenever possible.”

 

“Why?” Magnus knew it sounded harsh, but if this Wayland guy was mean to his Biscuit, it would _not_ be pretty.

 

“They tend to exacerbate each other's worst tendencies and there have been... incidents,” Alec replied after a pause that actually had Magnus a bit concerned. He knew Clary, and given the Beagle Incident that almost got her sent to Delta Vega, whatever Wayland convinced her to try could not have been good. Any further questioning would have to wait, as the doors slid open and the bridge was in sight.

 

It was busy, noisy, not quite hectic, but everyone had a purpose and a mission. The sound of the hydraulic doors drew the gaze of a few people, a small, dark haired boy calling out in an accent that reminded Magnus so much of home, “Captain's on duh bridge!”

 

Magnus waved off the salutes, doing his best to put names from the files to faces. There was a leggy brunette at the communications station, long dark hair pulled into a slick pony-tail, skin a bit darker but with the green tint that marked her as Vulcan, and thus, Alec's sister.  She was the voice that had spoken on the shuttle, Magnus realized, which explained why he couldn't quite place her accent.

 

And speaking of his rather handsome XO, Alec was staring at a blond lazily slumped in the captain's ( _his)_ chair, a dark brow arched in something that Magnus would call humor if he was anything other than Vulcan.

 

“With both of your superior officers on the bridge, it is protocol to release the con, Lieutenant.”

 

With the cool look on his face, and the small furrow in his brow, Alec should not look as handsome as he did. Really, how was that even possible? Was it Vulcan genetics? They didn't cover that in class. Clearly, research would need to be done.

 

“You suck the fun out of _everything_ , Alec. Just want you to know that,” he grumbled, getting up and giving Magnus the laziest salute he had ever seen, and Ragnor and he ran into an admiral completely stoned out of their minds.

 

“Capt'n. Lieutenant Jace Wayland, pilot extraordinaire and the best looking man on the bridge.”

 

Magnus had no idea exactly _what_ face he made, but given the way the blood slowly drained from Wayland's face and he scurried for the helm, it must have been good.

 

He could see why Alec warned against putting him and Clary in the same space now.  She would have eaten him alive.

 

“The con is yours, Captain,” Alec offered with a respectful tilt of his head, hands clasped behind his back again. “If you would permit, I will make introductions, as the entirety of the bridge crew is here for your convenience.”

 

Magnus will _not_ think about having Alec at his beck and call. He won't. That cannot end well.

 

“You have had the pleasure of meeting our primary helmsman,” Alec sighed, ignoring the 'you know you love me, Alec' that Jace shouted back. “Next to him is Ensign Simon Lewis, our navigator and secondary helmsman.”

 

The small, dark haired boy from before snapped to attention, which, given that he was sitting down, went quite poorly. Jace seemed to expect it, almost idly reaching out and righting Simon before he could actually land on the ground. Simon beamed at Jace, who scoffed and rolled his eyes. It was almost... cute.

 

Well, Jace seemed to be a complete shit. The Lewis kid was alright though, but young. So very, _very_ young, but according to his aptitude tests, quite brilliant. Magnus made a note to keep an eye out for him.

 

Alec turned and faced the brunette that Magnus had noticed before, and the family resemblance was so strong that it made him question if human cloning was involved. However, unlike Alec, this Vulcan actually _smiled_. She was quite pretty with dark red lips, nails painted to match, and boots with a wicked heel that made Magnus wince in sympathy. Some people would surely judge due to her looks, her style, but Magnus could see the confidence in her frame that made it quite clear that she _earned_ her seat on this crew.

 

“Isabelle Lightwood, lieutenant. I speak over ten languages fluently, not including Standard2, of course, with a working knowledge in an additional twenty. Well, if you include dialects,” she quipped.

 

“Thirty does sound better than ten,” Magnus agreed. “Any from Earth?”

 

“ _Oh, do you speak English? I'm getting rusty without anyone to speak it with.”_

 

“ _That, my dear, I can help with_ ,” Magnus promised, the words sounding a bit harsh on his tongue, compared to the softer tones of Standard.

 

“ _D_ _í_ _os,_ can we get on with it?” a grumpy voice muttered from behind a monitor and Magnus cannot help the wide grin on his face.

 

“Is that my favorite little undead monster?”

 

“... Is it too late to get Luke back?” Raphael grumbled, peaking around the large screen to give Magnus a very half-hearted wave. It could pass for a salute, he supposed, if he squinted.

 

Still more respectful than Jace's.

 

“Afraid you're stuck with me,” he confirmed. “Do you want to hug it out? We can hug it out.”

 

Jace was snickering behind his hand, and Alec and Isabelle were sharing a look that Magnus hoped was good. He would hate to have mutiny in the first twenty-four hours.

 

“Wait, do you know Raphael, Captain? Luke said he knew you, and Clary, but Raphael didn't say a word about it. I mean, he is really busy, being the Chief Science officer and all, and maybe he did and I missed it. Or something.”

 

Magnus shot Simon a look, all wide eyes and hurt. Fake, but they wouldn't know that. Okay, Raphael would, and given the snort he heard, clearly _did_ , but he was smart enough to stay out of Magnus' little dramatic moments.

 

“You see, Sherman--”

 

“Simon,” he pipped up. “I mean, Captain. Or, you know. Lewis. Or I mean, whatever works, really, sorry.”

 

“ _Anyway_ , yes, Raphael and I have known each other ever since we were kids. He was cuter then.”

 

The look that Raphael sent him screamed _I can kill you in your sleep_.

 

Magnus just smiled.

 

Alec was very brief in introducing the rest of the bridge crew, the beta and gamma shifts, the assistants and those who worked the monitors and the daily maintenance that a ship needed in order to function. Being that he was not a child genius, Vulcan, or both, he could not recall all of their names, but he would. In a week. Maybe two. Worst case, Alec would help out.

 

...That was _not_ meant to even sound remotely dirty. Magnus really, really needed to get his brain together.

 

There was a soft beep, Magnus' comm 3  buzzing at his side. His contact information would have been given out to the officers in the past day or so, but he didn't have time to program theirs in yet. The screen flashed Clary though, and Magnus answered without thinking.

 

“Yes Biscuit?”

 

“... Captain?” Clary sounded relatively calm, which given that she just said goodbye to her father, was either a very good sign, or a bad one.

 

“It's a habit at this point, no point in changing. Report,” he instructed softly.

 

Clary laughed, the sound soft and strained, but at least it was a sign that she was mostly alright. He hoped. He could not wait to catch up with her. Well, after he saw Ragnor, and Catarina, who were probably squirreled away in Medical, healing the sick and bickering like the married couple they were.

 

“Cap— _Rear Admiral_ Garroway has been safely seen back to Earth Space Dock Four, Captain. Ship is ready to depart, on your order.”

 

“Thank you, Biscuit. Launch in five. Bane, out.”

 

Magnus flipped his comm shut before eyeing up the bridge crew and grinning.

 

“So, any questions before we begin?”

 

“How do you feel about bacon?” Jace asked, and Magnus was shocked enough by the randomness that he answered, “delicious,” without thinking.

 

“Beer, wine, or neither?”

 

“I have yet to meet a cocktail that I haven't liked,” Magnus admitted.

 

“What about-”

 

“ _Jace._ ”

 

Alec actually sounded a bit annoyed, which had to be a trick of his mind, or at least, of the excitement and stress.

 

“ _What_ , Alec? I have spent the last fifteen summers- _fifteen_ -without meat or booze or fun. I love you, you _know_ I do, but a man has needs!”

 

“And that need is salted, over processed pork product?”

 

“ _Yes_. And beer. So much beer. Simon only gets two in before he's a sleepy hot mess.”

 

“You said it was cool that I was such a cheap date,” Simon shot back, sounding almost upset. Magnus either wanted to run away or get snacks.  Possibly both.

 

At least the next few years would be interesting.

 

“If we could open a ship-wide channel,” Magnus asked Isabelle after a moment, who was silently chuckling as she spun in her chair to work the console.

 

Seeing a Vulcan laugh was still so, so weird.

 

“Good afternoon,” Magnus said once Isabelle gave him the cue to begin, “This is your new Captain, Magnus Bane. Until today, you were led by a good man. A great man. Luke Garroway is the best man I have ever known, and I am both flattered and honored to succeed him as Captain of this vessel.

 

“I cannot be him, or replace him, and to be frank, I don't want to. What I want—what I _hope_ , is to meet with you all, get to know the crew that he has left me with and take that framework and make it the absolute best it can be. That _we_ can be. It's what the now Admiral would want, it's want I want, and I think it's what you all want, too.

 

“We all have our reasons to be here. To see the stars, explore the unknown, or help those that need it most. To find our place in the universe, our purpose. To be honest, I'm still working on it. I think we all are,” Magnus admitted, getting a few chuckles from some of the crew with him.

 

“So, by all means. Come find me. Show me what you're working on. We''ll have time. We're to drop off supplies for Yorktown before we resume the mapping of uncharted space. If there is a suggestion, a concern, please let someone know. I will be visiting departments over the next few days, and look forward to meeting you all. Bane, out.”

 

Magnus settled back into his chair, finally taking in the scenery thorough the front viewscreen. It was gorgeous, and wonderful, and deadly. Three of Magnus' favorite things.

 

“Chart a course for Yorktown, Lois.”

 

Simon sighed, rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he plotted a course for the Federation base, Jace peering over his shoulder and offering suggestions. Between the two, it was only a moment before the course was set and locked, both men looking to Magnus for permission.

 

“Anything I've forgotten?” he asked Alec, who was standing just slightly behind his chair and to the left. Close enough to his station that he could reach it easily, but also close in case his captain suddenly needed him.

 

He really was perfect.

 

“No, Captain. The course that Ensign Lewis has chosen is certainly the quickest one, allowing us to reach Yorktown in three point two days at warp four4. We would shorten that to two point eight at warp five, but that would put undue strain on the core that I would not recommend if unnecessary.”

 

“Fair enough,” Magnus agreed. “Thrusters until we're clear, and then warp four, Wayland.”

 

“Aye, Captain. Engaging thrusters.”

 

The hum of the engine kicked up, almost purring as Jace slowly eased the throttle up, allowing the ship to begin pulling out of Earth's orbit. There was a bit of tug and drag, as always, but all in all, it _was_ the smoothest takeoff Magnus had been through.

 

He _knew_ there had to be _some_ reason Luke kept the brat around.

 

“Clear of orbit, Captain,” Simon piped up, looking far too cheery for someone stuck next to said brat for eight hours a day. Maybe he just liked flying. Had to be it.

 

“Warp four, ready. On your mark, Captain.”

 

Magnus caught Alec's gaze in the reflection of the viewscreen and smiled.

 

“Mark.”

 

And off they were, lost among the stars.

 


	2. Of Coffee Breaks and Dinner Dates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get a deeper glimpse into the Lightwood family dynmatics and their official pastime of denial and the ocassional bar brawl. 
> 
> And pining. So. Much. Pining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this wasn't sooner. Between real life kicking my butt and trying to force the chapter to behave, I ended up splitting it into two parts. Because this was 7.5k on its own, and I didn't want you all to wait any longer. 
> 
> Terms are explained at the end, as always. 
> 
> Enjoy the ride!

Terans had a wide variety of colloquialisms, some more useful than not. The one about change was rather apt at the moment.

 

Logistically, the chances of Alec serving under the same Captain during his career were almost too miniscule to measure--depending on the variables, he put it somewhere between one and two thousandth of a percent. Given all of the possible reasons to lose one’s commanding officer, a promotion, and a well-deserved one at that, was not the worst way.  With the inherent danger of traveling deep space, the fact that Captain Garroway, now Rear Admiral Garroway, had survived long enough to join “the brass” was almost a fluke.

 

Regardless, the fact that as of yesterday, Luke Garroway was no longer Captain of the Enterprise irked Alec in a way he had not quite anticipated.  There was no fault with his chosen replacement; rather, the man seemed incredibly competent and well-suited for the role.  Perhaps that was where the trouble lied---if, Captain Bane was terrible at his job, or unintelligent, or not well-spoken, it would bother Alec less. This was not the case.

 

In fact, given the pool of possible candidates, this was surely the best outcome Alec could have foreseen. Captain Bane was an old family friend of Rear Admiral Garroway and Clary, seemed to have an understanding of interpersonal relationships that far surpassed his own, and he was _incredibly_ aesthetically pleasing. Not that it had _any_ bearing on his ability to function as an efficient Captain. In fact, it had absolutely no merit at all, and so Alec would strike that thought from the positives column immediately.   

 

He had not had the opportunity to fully observe his new Captain; there had only been two point three hours left in his shift upon the bridge, after which Alec had obligations to oversee some cadets’ physical training.  It was customary for senior students to serve some time upon a ship for practical experience, and there were a few promising students that Alec would not mind having aboard in a more permanent capacity.  Not that such decisions would be entirely up to him, of course.  While he and former Captain Garroway had a system in place, there was no guarantee that it would stay in place after the change in personnel.

 

Which _would_ explain the early meeting Captain Bane had called for this morning, just the two of them.  It was not early by Vulcan standards, as they required much less rest than humans, but Alec doubted that Captain Bane would schedule a meeting he could not attend.

 

However, it was possible that his conjecture could be wrong, as it was already twenty minutes past the agreed-upon starting time, and Alec was still alone in the ready room (1).

 

It took another ten minutes before the door slid open and Captain Bane strolled in, not winded or frantic at all, as if he neither knew nor cared that promptness was a virtue Alec appreciated in his superior officer.  In fact, Alec would even hypothesize that the extra time had been spent perfecting the stark lines of kohl over his eyes and the sharp lines of his hair.  Captain Bane had even made it to the mess hall on the way, a replicated cup of (what he assumed to be) coffee in his hand.  With a soft smile on his face, the other man took the seat across from Alec, a rather bright ‘good morning’ falling from lush lips.

 

“It has been a morning, though its quality has been diminished given the circumstances that had me waiting here for the last twenty-eight point six minutes,” Alec answered, pushing away any thoughts of lips or goatees or what that would _feel_ like on sensitive Vulcan skin.  It was not _appropriate_.  Captain Bane was his superior officer, and they hardly even knew each other.  Entertaining such fantasies was neither productive nor possible.  

 

Clearly, more meditation was in order.  Alec resolved to schedule an extra hour for that evening.

 

While some would have taken offense to Alec’s blunt words, Captain Bane just laughed, a soft, deep sound that lingered, like it it was meant for just the two of them.  “Are you saying a morning isn’t good without me, darling?”

 

“I am saying that if you could not attend at the time _you_ chose, it would be polite to inform the other attendees so they can accomplish other things.”

 

“I wouldn’t say you’ve been twiddling your thumbs-I know you did at least two duty rosters while you were waiting,” the Captain replied.  “Besides, perfection takes time.  I wanted to look pretty for you.”

 

 _You succeeded_ , Alec wanted to say.  Clearly, Jace _was_ the terrible influence his teachers always expected him to be, for there was no other reason Alec would even _have_ a thought like that.  It was so emotional.  So instinctive.

 

So very, very human.

 

“Common courtesy dictates that the scheduling party inform the others of delay.”

 

“I promise to text if I’m going to be late for dinner.”

 

“... While the concept of time is arbitrary at best, the ship is currently on morning and as such, the meal at this time would be breakfast, Captain.”

 

“It’s a figure of speech, darling.  And please, we’re off duty.  Call me Magnus.  I mean, unless you like the whole ‘captain’ thing.  I’m open to it.”

 

“I don't think my preferences determine your captaincy of this vessel,” Alec replied after a moment.

 

Magnus sighed, one dark brow quirked, but he seemed to not mind Alec’s self-acknowledged lack of knowledge of Teran turns of phrase.  

 

“It’s just an expression, Alec.  Now then, show me how the shift rotation goes, if you wouldn’t mind.  Luke did say he left a lot of that up to you.  Must trust you a lot.”

 

Alec frowned, instinct urging him to defend someone he greatly admired and respected from what he perceived to be undue criticism.  Captain Bane-Magnus must have caught on, because he sat back in his seat, the body language of someone expecting physical blows, or lashing out.

 

“It’s not a bad thing, Alec, really.  I just,” Magnus paused, as if he wanted to choose the perfect words, before smiling.  “There’s so much happening, and I’ve been here what, a day?  Two, technically?  Sure, they give us classes and all, and I’ve worked my way up, but knowing that there is someone so incredibly capable that someone like Luke trusted?  It’s amazing, and I’m very grateful.”

 

Not sure how to respond, Alec stayed silent, doing his best to force the heat from his cheeks.  Vulcans did not blush, as _that_ was an emotional response and beneath them.

 

“I-I th-thank you,” he forced out, cursing the speech impediment that came out when he was emotionally compromised.  Izzy had always called it cute; Jace had punched anyone who said otherwise.  Alec just wanted it gone. It, much like his large eyes and mouth, was just another sign that he was not fully Vulcan, that he was flawed in the eyes of his people.

 

“Shall I elaborate on the roster for the next fortnight?” Alec asked after a moment, grateful when Magnus nodded and allowed the change in subject matter.

 

The next ninety minutes were spent pouring over paperwork, Alec elaborating on the system he and Luke had spent the last two years perfecting, what worked and what changes he foresaw given Magnus’ more hands-on approach. Magnus was an attentive listener, agreeable but not opposed to offering feedback when appropriate. It was rather refreshing, to borrow one of Izzy’s words. It was common for people to talk over Alec, or at him, like his sole purpose was to dispense knowledge and answer questions.

 

It wasn't.

 

Vulcans were quite capable of keeping accurate time, so much so that Alec did not need an alert to tell him that it was about to strike the ninth hour, and thus the start of alpha shift. They had made progress, remarkably so, and Alec was tentatively optimistic about their working relationship. It was far too early to proclaim anything, but it seemed as though they would do well together, which was all Alec could ever hope to achieve.

 

“Let me walk you to the bridge,” Magnus offered, what he first thought were dark eyes seemed to truly be a burnished shade of gold, eager to catch his gaze and keep it. The color was unique, even for a species with incredible genetic disparity.

 

It was hard for Alec to look away.

 

“We are only meters away from it,” he said after a moment, “but if it pleases you, Captain.”

 

“Didn't I tell you to call me Magnus?”

 

“When appropriate,” Alec agreed. “Being that we shall be both on duty and on the bridge within the minute, I would think the title is duly needed.”

 

“Has anyone ever told you how hot you look when you talk all smart?” Magnus asked, sliding to his feet in a move that reminded Alec of flowing water. It was effortless, graceful, and utterly entrancing.

 

“No,” Alec stated, following Magnus through the door, “I can state that has never occurred.”

 

“Pity, your attractiveness should always be pointed out.”

 

“... Shall I make it a directive?” Alec drawled, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Another human trait he learned from Jace, and one that he used far too often.

 

“Oh no,” Magnus laughed. “That's just for me. I'd hate to need to beat them off of you with sticks.”

 

“... I am unaware of any Starfleet issued weapons that would be classified as _sticks,_ Captain.”

 

“Euphemism, Alec. Just a figure of speech.”

 

“Ah. I will remember that for next time.”

 

“Right.  Duty calls then. Shall we?”  Magnus asked, demeanor shifting into the cool, polite and witty demeanor Clary called his _captain persona_.

 

His sister's chosen bondmate (2) was certainly inventive in her word choices.

 

Alec nodded, following Magnus out onto the bridge, Magnus brushing off the salutes that Simon’s hail brought him. He seemed to have the situation in hand, so Alec took a moment to observe his siblings. While Izzy was as serene as usual, Jace was not leaning in towards Simon as was to be expected, instead sitting perfectly upright and dutifully keeping his eyes on the helm.

 

Clearly, the two had bickered over something completely trivial, Jace blowing it out of proportion and Simon reacting hastily as he usually did.  It would more than likely resolve itself before the evening meal time, as the two could barely go nine hours without speaking.  Worst case, Izzy and Clary could be relied upon to broker peace between the two men.

 

Of course, they insisted it was due to latent and ignored attraction.

 

Alec argued that Jace was just, to use Clary’s preferred phrase, a “total asshole”. He cherished his brother immensely, would be lost without the grounding influence that their bond brought, but Alec wasn't blind to his flaws. Jace had a tendency to think first, question later, and considered rules and regulations to be mere guidelines that could be ignored on a whim.

 

Frankly, he was surprised Simon could stand dealing with Jace, given the lack of mental bond they shared that would allow him to understand the deep emotions that ran below the surface.  He was a decent man, very talented and well-suited for his job, but sheltered, unused to the difficulties that a life with Starfleet brought.  Of course, that seemed to be the reason why Jace and Simon bickered: Jace would point out something, Simon would argue, and by the end Jace lost his temper and shouted something that sent Simon off to sulk in his quarters.

 

Izzy always scoffed at Alec’s explanations, but given what he was currently observing, his hypothesis had to be correct.  Surely after he gathered more evidence, the women would believe him and stop the ridiculous notion of setting the two helmsmen up on a date.

  


* * *

 

 

The second morning occurred much as the first, Captain Bane requesting his company in the ready room for the morning meal, a bowl of plomeek soup and Vulcan spice tea awaiting him at the seat he had used previously. Clearly, the Captain had done his research, had somehow learned his preferences for breaking his morning fast. It was… a consideration Alec had not quite anticipated.  

And it did not seem that he wanted any recognition for it either, barely waiting for Alec to take his seat before launching into the list of duties they would have upon docking at Yorktown. The ship would need outfitted for three months of deep space exploration, the crew permitted a night of shore leave while last minute repairs took place.  A skeleton crew would need to be selected in case of emergencies, mostly of volunteers and a few senior crew members who worked on rotation. Neither Alec nor any of his siblings were on the current list, which meant that the standard family meal would surely be arranged. While he did not mind the replicated fare, Alec knew that Izzy and Jace would be eager to go out and be social, and as their elder brother, he would have to supervise, lest another incident occur.

 

Which of course, meant that he would be forced to watch as Jace bickered with Simon, and Izzy and Clary pretended that no one else existed, eager to have some pleasant time to themselves. The thought of being an extraneous presence with the two pairs was disquieting, but then the thought occurred to him that Magnus, who he understood was close to Clary, would perhaps like to attend.  While he understood that to some, such an invitation could be misconstrued as an indication of romantic attraction, Alec truly had no such intentions. He was just eager to have pleasant company that would not aggravate his temper or spend the entire night locked in an amorous embrace.

 

There was a lull in the conversation, Magnus having just finished jotting down the last of the crew that would stay shipside and supervise the outfitting when he leaned back in his seat, arms braced on the chair and fingers interlocked, absently twisting one silver ring.

 

“And what, exactly, will you be up to with all of your free time, Mister Lightwood?  Polishing your… weapons?”

 

“That is not a behavior I do off duty,” Alec corrected, “but to answer your query, there will be an informal meal for my siblings and I. I was actually curious if you would care to attend, if you had no conflict in your schedule.”

 

The Captain opened his mouth, clearly intent on saying something, but after a moment he smiled and shook his head.

 

“I don't want to intrude on time with you and your sister, but it's kind of you to offer.  I can always go bother Raphael. He keeps avoiding me; my delicate feelings are hurt.”

 

“If it was an intrusion, I would not have offered,” Alec pointed out. “In addition, my understanding was that you have not seen Lieutenant-Commander Fairchild in some time, and as she will be in attendance, this would serve the dual purpose of providing you with sustenance as well as time with her.”

 

“Why would Clary be going?” Magnus questioned, dark brow furrowing over those golden eyes, the harsh lighting picking out the flecks of amber and dark brown in a way that was rather captivating.  Alec shook his head slightly, pushing any and all such thoughts from his mind.

 

“The Lieutenant-Commander is in an intimate relationship with my sister.”

 

“Your sister.”  Magnus blinked, once, twice, the glitter in the dark shadow over his eyes catching the light. “My sister is dating your sister?”

 

“I was unaware of the exact specifics of your relationship with the Lieutenant-Commander, but that would be correct.”

 

“Her parents raised me, but she's not legally my sister. Still,” the Captain breathed out. “How does that work, exactly?”

 

“I try to avoid the finer details,” Alec pointed out, feeling a strange satisfaction when Magnus chuckled.

 

“I didn't mean it like _that_ , you perv.”

 

“Perhaps you would be willing to clarify then, Captain?”

 

“It's _Magnus_ , we’re not on duty yet. And just, your sister seems so… in charge, talented and she has amazing taste in fashion. Those boots were Valentino, and I love them too much to even care that they're not regulation.”

 

“And you feel that the Lieutenant-Commander is not?”

 

“No, she's brilliant,” Magnus corrected himself. “Terrifyingly so, actually. But she's a hot mess, usually wearing her shirt backwards and believes that engine fluid is a valid form of skin care. It's not.”

 

“Well,” Alec started after a moment, not quite sure how to answer the implied censure in his comment. “If you do not wish to go, it is of course understandable--”

 

“No, no. Of course I want to go, Alec. Just tell me when and where.”

 

“I am unsure of the venue,” Alec admitted, “As it is Jace’s turn to pick and his tastes are somewhat… eclectic. You can be assured that it will undoubtedly contain copious amounts of alcohol.”

 

“So, it's not just a family affair,” Magnus muttered, lips twisting into a sardonic smile.

 

“I do believe he’s bringing Ensign Lewis, yes. It's what usually occurs.”

 

“Fair enough.”

 

“To answer your other query, I expect our arrival time to be approximately seventeen hundred hours.”

 

“Only approximately?” Magnus teased, leaning forward in his chair. Alec fought the heat rising to his cheeks, unsure of what would prompt such a response.  He has been gently teased before, Clary and Jace both using the technique to show their affection, but this was different.  Why, he was unsure, and would have to meditate upon it that evening.

 

“Jace-- Lieutenant Wayland has a habit of pushing the ship to its thresholds on speed,” he admitted.

 

“He has a lead foot? Hmm,” Magnus hummed.  “Well, I won't complain about docking sooner. It's only been two days and I'm ready for a break.”

 

“If someone has lacked the proper courtesy…”

 

“I appreciate you defending my honor, but no, Alec. Everyone has been fine. Perfect, even. Just. Getting my legs, so to speak,” Magnus promised. “Now then, we only have a few minutes left--”

 

“Four point two, to be exact.”

 

“Yes, Alec, thank you. Since we only have _four point two minutes_ left, shall we go over the roster again, or perhaps we can continue gossiping about everyone.”

 

“Vulcans do not gossip, Magnus.”

 

“Oh, does calling it _discussing interpersonal relationships_ make you feel better about it?” Magnus quipped, gathering his dirty dishes as well as Alec’s, casually stacking them off to the side to be brought to the mess hall later.

 

“It had,” Alec said softly, almost smiling when he heard Magnus actually laugh. It was a good thing that he had turned to exit, because if hearing it made him want to smile, then seeing Magnus laugh would undo him, and that was simply not acceptable.

 

* * *

 

 

Magnus had no idea what to expect from this family dinner.  
  
Maybe that was sad, given that it implied that he never had one, which wasn't entirely true. There were plenty of dinners with Clary and Jocelyn, and Luke when he was on Earth, but they were few and far between, and lacking structure. Most meals were more of the 'we're here let's replicate something' than going out to eat in a crowded public place.  
  
Which, it seemed, was the Lightwood family tradition on their first night planetside, or rather, base-side.  While Yorktown was rather large, it was still a hunk of metal floating about space, which meant it couldn't be a planet.  Right?  
  
Clearly, he would need to comm Raphael and ask him. Preferably at the crack of dawn, just to fuck with him.

 

Still, it was their tradition, and honestly kind of them (well, Alec)  to invite him along.  He wasn't sure at first, wondering if he would be awkward and out of place (almost impossible, but the thought lingered) but Clary was going, and she was his foster-sister, wasn't she?  And Sherman was just Lieutenant Asshole's whipping boy or something (honestly, he had no idea, and to be completely frank, Magnus did _not_ want to), so he wouldn't be the only one without a date.  
  
And honestly, those were perfectly valid reasons, but Magnus had lost the ability to lie to himself a long time ago, so he knew damn well the only reason he was even willing to go was to see Alec in his non-uniformed glory.

 

Of course, acknowledging that to himself, and actually seeing it were two entirely different things.  
  
Magnus stepped into the transporter room, unsurprised to see that he was the last to arrive--beauty took patience, after all, and achieving the perfect wing on eyeliner without magic powers sometimes took an extra try or two.  
  
Isabelle and Clary looked lovely, of course, the former in a tight black dress whose hem barely reached the top of her black boots, the heel making her almost of a height to Clary.  His Biscuit was dressed to match, black and charcoal grey layered shirts, with slightly ruined jeans he was almost sure he had gotten her for her last birthday.   They were a striking couple, loosely holding hands, both smiling as Sherman went on about some twentieth century television program that was 'back in vogue', or something.  
  
Magnus glanced over Jace, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the tough guy look Jace was trying to pull off.  
  
Of course, right next to him was Alec, who had on a very similar jacket, though it just made his shoulders look broader, showed off the pallor of his skin. And the _shirt_ .  
  
It was a green so dark it was almost black, thin and clingy and Magnus was ready to write a personal thank you note to whomever bought it for the Vulcan, he really was.    
  
Well, once he found two brain cells to rub together, that was.  
  
Factor in the five o'clock shadow he was sporting, and the tight black trousers and boots, and he was ready to skip the dinner and head straight for dessert.

 

It did not help when he started stroking at the stubble over his chin, drawing attention to it and the pretty mouth it surrounded, all lush pink lips and...  
  
He was _so_ not drunk enough for this.  
  
The soft smack of skin hitting skin brought him out of his thoughts, Jace far too smug as he glared at Alec, whose left hand was flushed green.  
  
"Will you knock it off?  It's fine. Seriously."  
  
"It's customary to freshen up before a meal, and regulations say--"  
  
"Alec, we're out of uniform. We're not even on duty. Who cares!  Besides, you hate shaving, it makes your skin all dry and itchy. Just. Leave it alone," Jace snapped, almost fond, and for a moment Magnus actually wondered what the nature of that relationship was, exactly. Wayland did seem to know quite a bit about Alec, and he was invited to this dinner...  
  
"You are certain that I shouldn't shave?" Alec asked, dark brow furrowed, which only drew attention to those eyes of his, big and bright and so damn green because of that fucking shirt.  
  
This was not _fair_.  
  
"Don't," Magnus and Isabelle shout at the same time, a small laugh escaping them both.  
  
"It looks fine, brother. Don't overthink it."  
  
"Besides, aren't we already running late?" Magnus finished, doing his best to project calm.  Given the odd look Clary was giving him, it was not completely effective.  
  
"Well, you were the one holding us up, you know. Sir."  
  
"Well, Wayland, perfection takes time. Not that you'd know."  
  
"You're right. I was born this way," Jace finished, sharp smile, though the teasing was meant in fun. Mostly.  
  
Still, Magnus had never been good at keeping his sarcasm to himself.  
  
"You mean a bottle blonde?"  
  
"How dare you!  This is natural and I can prove it!"  
  
"There is no public lewdness or nudity," Alec chided. "Until at least your third bottle of rum. You agreed to these terms."  
  
"... I really fucking hate you, you know that?"

 

Alec looked totally unimpressed with Wayland and his fake pout, who finally rolled his eyes and relented.  
  
"Kidding. You know I love you. Let's go get some freaking bar-b-q!"  
  
Jace all but dragged Alec to the transporter, the rest of them following at a more sedate pace.  
  
That was twice now that Jace had grabbed Alec, and for a species that considered that foreplay...  
  
Well, it wasn't a very good sign.  
  
"Energize," he instructed the cadet manning the controls, blaming the sick feeling in his gut on the fact that his molecules were being broken up into millions of pieces and digitized.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The restaurant wasn't far from the beam-down point, a short five minute walk that Magnus was grateful to have. It was nice to look up and see... not sky but not ship walls either, just other people and building and sun.    
  
It took time for the groove to settle in, get used to metal walls and fluorescent lights after being on Earth for more than a week or so.  Magnus would acclimate eventually, but given that they would not have shore leave for at least another five months, he was happy to be on solid ground for now.  
  
Isabelle had the forethought to reserve them a table, a round one with just enough space for them all to sit comfortably. It seemed that there was a system in place: Wayland sat between Sherman and Alec, Isabelle and then Clary on his other side. It kept the two of them separated, and with the empty seat lying between Alec and Clary, he rather lucked out.  
  
Magnus slid into his chair, doing his best to ignore tall dark and broody next to him (he needed to think, Ragnor would kill him if he ordered something that set off his allergies).  
  
The place had a decent bar menu, catering to all sorts of Federation races, but there was nothing quite like a good old fashioned martini.  Clary and Isabelle ordered a mudslide to share, and oh how he did not want to be around a hyped up on sugar Clary Fairchild anytime soon.  Sherman and the asshole ordered some locally brewed organic beer crap, but Alec just got water.  
  
Strange, given that this would be the first actually grown meal they'd be having in months, but maybe he just wasn't a drinker.  No shame in that. Some people just didn't care for the taste of alcohol. Or, maybe he couldn't have it. There were plenty of things Magnus couldn't have, up to and including various forms of medicine, bananas and pistachios.

 

And honestly, the amount of thought he was putting into something so small was almost embarrassing. He was Magnus Bane, awarded the Starfleet Silver Palm for bravery in battle, leader of a starship and acting like a complete fool for a man he's barely known half a week.  While Alec was gorgeous, and smart, and clearly a man of varied talents, this was a bit much. Clearly he would have to contain himself, lest he soon be awarded with a court martial or worse.

 

The service was snappy, the waiter dropping off their drinks on the way to serve another table.  Magnus had just finished savoring the first sip of his martini when the faint scent of ozone hit his nose and Wayland jumped, spraying beer out of his mouth and nose. Shirley had jumped up and out of the way, wiping the spray from his pants and shirt. Clary was laughing hysterically, face buried in Isabelle’s shoulder, who absently stroked her hair with a face that screamed exasperation and fondness.

 

“You little _shit_!  That was the first beer I've had in half a year!” Jace howled, mismatched eyes narrowed in rage.

 

“Oh hell, your _face_ ,” Clary forced out between laughs, shoulders shaking and Magnus knew her well enough to know that her voice was wet with mirth and happy tears.

 

“I am going to _murder_ you,” Wayland hissed, about to lunge over the table when he was stopped, a pale hand gently but firmly gripping his wrist.

 

“That's enough, Jace,” Alec said quietly, using his strength to tug Wayland back into his chair. “Do not cause a scene.”

 

“Alec, my _beer,”_ Wayland whined, pouting as he futility tried to tug his wrist free from the Vulcan’s hold.

 

“You can obtain another, only if you do not end up escorted out of this establishment,” Alec pointed out gently, fingers almost too tender as he left Wayland’s hand on the table.

 

“Well, when you collect yourself, tell me all about you and the lovely Miss Lightwood and how you met,” Magnus requested, doing his best to put aside any thoughts of pale green-tinged skin over golden-tanned and the sick feeling in his gut it caused.

 

* * *

 

 

The dinner had progressed smoothly once Clary got the urge to cause mischief out of her system.  She and Magnus spent most of the meal catching up, Magnus and Izzy quickly finding common ground. Since half of their conversations were in languages Alec did not speak, he could not know what subjects they discussed, but given the tone, it seemed they were quickly growing fond of one another.  Whether that was a favorable outcome remained to be seen, but Alec doubted that there could be enough negative factors to outweigh the benefits of a positive working relationship among the senior bridge crew.

 

Aside from the rather pleasurable texture of the Andorran salad, most of his attention was on his brother, who was sulking over his burger, Simon doing his best to soothe his temper.  Given his long-standing relationship with Clary, he was surprised that the navigator would choose Jace over the redhead, but maybe he found the practical joke to be distasteful.  Whatever the reason, he was being quite attentive, Jace slowly perking up and managing to joke around by the time the meal was finished.  Of course, that could not bode well for Alec’s peaceful evening.

 

“You know, when was the last time we went out?” Jace mused, idly playing with his empty mug.

 

“Well, there was that party on Risa, and I think we went dancing… actually, when was the last time we went out?” Izzy asked, chewing on the end of her straw. A terrible habit, one he knew their mother would chide her for; more than likely, that was why she did it.

 

“Oh, we should go!  Magnus, do you wanna go?  It'll be fun,” Clary pleaded.

 

“Oh Biscuit, you know I've yet to meet a party I didn't like,” Magnus purred, eyes lit up in pleasure, drawing attention to them and his smile, framed by that goatee and, well.  

 

Alec blinked, realizing that Izzy had been trying to get his consent, or at least, his somewhat unwilling attendance.

 

“If I say no, you plan on going regardless, do you not?” He questioned, sighing when four eager and slightly mischievous smiles met his gaze.  

 

Sometimes, being the eldest was more trouble than it was worth, especially given the sheer havoc his brother and sister tended to cause at any given moment.

 

Alec nodded his acceptance, mentally sighing while the other four cheered. Magnus had a look of confusion on his face, staring at Alec as if he was some sort of puzzle he ached to solve.  He ducked his head, quickly settling the bill, hoping that Magnus would have his attention elsewhere.  He didn't, eying Alec over the lip of his martini glass, mouth quirked in some expression he couldn't quite place.

 

“Try to find a place with comfortable seating,” he drawled, sending his brother a look that screamed _please behave_.

 

Given the glee he could feel from Jace, the chances of that happening were so slim that calculating them would only upset Alec further.

 

If only he believed in getting intoxicated; it would make this whole event so much more tolerable.

 

* * *

 

“We’ll catch you guys later!” Izzy shouted, dragging Clary off into the crowd. His sister was incredibly fond of dancing, and Clary was just fond of seeing Izzy happy. They made a successful couple: strong on their own merits but almost unstoppable together, their traits complimenting each other so well that it surprised him, given that they had chosen to be together, instead of the arranged partnerships that their kind were partial to.  It worked, both women so happy together that it was a shame Maryse could not seem to find the value in it, not that she would ever disclose to to her daughter.

 

That would require speaking with her, and Maryse had barely done so while in the same home.

 

Instead, all of her attention had focused on her firstborn, and while the pressure and expectations were almost stifling, Alec could not begrudge his sister or brothers their happiness. And yes, it meant putting aside his own personal aspirations, his own… preferences, but it was a noble choice, one that Alec would learn to live with.

 

Eventually.

 

Jace and Simon had settled in at the bar, the blond soaking in the attention of various men, women, and other gendered beings quite happily.  It was of note that while Simon was a bit further down the bar, he was neither out of Jace’s reach nor sight, as if his brother wanted the security of keeping the other man close.

 

“All by yourself, handsome?  Color me surprised,” Magnus drawled, effortless in his grace as he took a seat across from Alec. The booth muffled the noise, made it easy for his sensitive Vulcan hearing to make out his words, the casual flirtation making his ears heat slightly.

 

“You do not seem to be of an usual pallor, so I assume that was another turn of phrase.”

 

“Brilliant as ever,” he teased, another cocktail in his hand. This one was pink, a swirl of a citrus peel curled inside the shallow glass. “I do have to admit, I'm surprised you came. This does not seem to be your idea of a good time.”

 

Alec nodded, a pleased smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Why was he so cheerful that Magnus has noted such things, put effort into determining what his preferences were?  It surely could not be of import, not after only two and a half days.

 

And yet, it _was_ , and Alec could not explain it.

 

“I have found,” he answered after a pause, “that it is better to witness and prevent incidents than deal with the results the next day.”

 

“That bad, huh?” Magnus asked, leaning forward, as if they were trading the most intimate of secrets, and it made his voice catch, Alec fumbling for words for a moment.

 

“Under the effects of alcohol, there have been… occasions for concern.”

 

“Such as?  I believe stripping was mentioned earlier.”

 

“Jace has a terrible issue with regulating his body temperature while intoxicated, and tends to resolve this by shedding clothing.”

 

Magnus pursed his lips, no doubt holding back a comment that, as his older brother, Alec would not appreciate.  Instead, he brought up the cuisine they had sampled at dinner, very knowledgeable about farming techniques on various planets. It made for pleasant conversation, and Alec was pleased to say that a few hours passed this way.

 

It was only interrupted by Simon, flushed and clearly in his cups, skidding to a halt in front of their booth. He looked frazzled, and Alec immediately looked around for his brother, concerned when he was nowhere in sight.

 

“Um, I know I promised to stop him but uh well. You might. Um. Want to. Come see.”

 

“What did he do now?” Alec breathed out, reluctantly leaving his seat.  They had been having such a nice time, Magnus quite knowledgeable on many subjects, and of course Jace had to ruin his da-day. His day.

 

“Well,” Simon hesitated, doing his best to avoid Alec’s knowing look. “Please don't kill him.”

 

Alec let his eyes close for a moment, before turning to Magnus, who only seemed bothered that their time together seemed to be ending.

 

“How would you rate your ability to handle drunk and disorderly adults?”

 

“Rather high. What did Wayland do?” Magnus asked, leaving his half-finished martini behind.

 

When Simon refused to answer Alec growled, turning on his heel, the bond leading him straight to Jace. He was wild-eyed and messy, and about to fight what could possibly be a Gorn (3), or at least, a creature the size of one.  He turned and glared at Simon, who just held up his palms and shrugged.

 

“Don't look at me!  I have no idea what set him off.  I just. You know.”

 

“Have no desire to get your ass handed to you by a walking lizard?” Magnus snarked before sliding between the crowd and drawing the attention of everyone at the bar.  It barely took a minute for them to fall under his spell, the distraction allowing Alec to yank Jace back and out of the way, who did not even have the decency to look remotely sorry for his poor decision .

 

“ _What_ , pray tell, would make you consider a brawl any form of good behavior?” Alec hissed, holding Jace at arm’s lengths by his shoulders.

 

“He was going to eat Simon alive!”

 

Alec let his eyes fall shut for a moment, counting to ten in Romulan in order to keep his temper.

 

“Jace. Gorns do not eat people. We learned this as children. Those are Teran separatist rumors in order to provoke talk about leaving the Federation.”

 

It took a moment for Jace to process these words, slowly blinking as he forced himself to push through his drunken haze.

 

“Oh. Oh god. He was gonna. He.”

 

“Seemed to have a sexual interest in Ensign Lewis, yes,” Alec stated calmly.  Jace was not in any way calm, doing his best to escape and start another fight, though why another being expressing interest in the young helmsman bothered his brother so, Alec neither knew, nor cared.

 

“Alec-Alec let me go!  I'm going to _kill him_.”

 

“Absolutely not,” he answered, narrowing his eyes and frowning. “Why are you so concerned with this?”

 

Jace opened his mouth to answer him when Magnus appeared, Simon and Clary tipsy and following him like a pair of sehlat (4) kittens, a much more sedate Izzy in tow.

 

“Simon found us,” she murmured, eying Jace who was still straining against Alec’s grip, “mostly because he was worried you two would come to blows.”

 

“Hey, I love Alec way too much to hurt him,” Jace protested. “Even if he's keeping me from kicking that douche’s ass.”

 

“When you end up incarcerated, I am not coming to assist you,” he warned, steering Jace towards the exit.

 

“You lie. You would so bust me out. Probably because you'd be in the cell with me. You'd go to prison for me, right buddy?”

 

“If I say yes, will you be agreeable and calmly head to your quarters?” Alec asked, hoping against hope that for once, Jace would manage to comport himself with some sort of dignity.

 

“... Are you asking me to be a good boy for you, Alec?  Because you know I will be,” Jace cackled, allowing the Vulcan to force him outside. The fresh air seemed to help him sober up, enough that Alec felt secure enough to release him, taking a step back and mentally questioning what his katra (5) did to deserve having Jace Wayland in his life.

 

“I know that look,” Simon attempted to whisper, though it was much more of a shout. “That's so his _why haven't I killed you in your sleep yet_ look.”

 

“Is that one that occurs often?” Magnus asked, eying the two of them in an almost questioning way, the easy comradeship from earlier gone.

 

“Yes,” the five of them answer, Clary giggling a bit.

 

“Why don't I get Jace tucked in, brother?  You've done your share of minding today,” Izzy offered, ignoring Jace’s shout of protest.

 

Alec frowned, not wanting to detract from his sister’s time out with her bondmate.  Still, he knew better than to second-guess Izzy and nodded, murmuring a soft good night and heading for the beam-up point.

 

It took a moment for Alec to recognize that he was not walking alone, turning to catch Magnus in profile. It was stunning, the way the light caught his nose, his jaw, the facial hair and jewelry only complementing the natural beauty he had and _Alec could not think such things._

 

“So,” his Captain said after a moment, eyes resolutely on the road ahead of them.  “You and Wayland seem. Remarkably close.”

 

“We have been known to each other since my tenth summer,” Alec answered, arms loosely held at his sides. He could feel the warmth radiating from Magnus, and for someone who was perpetually cold, it was very tempting to reach out and touch, but he restrained himself.  “It's a situation much like yourself and Lieutenant-Commander Fairchild.”

 

“Oh, I doubt that,” Magnus muttered before forcing a smile on his face. “You can call her Clary, I'm sure she doesn't mind.”

 

“I have been given permission, yes.”

 

“Then why don't you?” Magnus questioned, honest curiosity in his voice, and it made Alec wish to be honest in kind.

 

“Plenty of people look down upon the Lieutenant-Commander for her age, her gender, her connections, and attribute any and all of her success to those factors, discounting the rest. She is one of the best in her field, and deserves all of the respect and recognition that such prestige allows. So yes, I do attempt to provide such courtesy at all times, in the hope that others will follow,” he stated softly.

 

Magnus whistled, arms swinging slightly, and Alec could feel the inches between them like an extension of his own senses.

 

“You really like her, don't you?”

 

“She is a credit to her family,” Alec answered, “and I am honored to serve with her.”

 

Silence fell again, only broken when Magnus commed the ship to ask for a beam-up. It was never his favorite sensation, but quicker than a shuttle, and far more practical.

 

“Off to bed then?” His Captain asked, leading the way to their neighboring quarters. The Captain and First Officer shared a lavatory, each with their own bunk room on either side. They had yet to run into an issue of space or sharing, but Alec was an early riser, never having an issue with former Captain Garroway either.

 

“I will meditate, as Vulcans prefer less sleep than humans, but the analogy is apt,” Alec answered. “And yourself?”

 

“I'd die for a bubble bath and a glass of wine, but I suppose I'll have to settle for an empty bed,” Magnus mourned, and Alec would swear that he winked, turning back to face forward.  He was _not_ going to think of the connotations of that statement, he was _not_.

 

Only four point seven minutes passed before they arrived at their quarters, Magnus turning to say goodnight, looking up through his lashes and Alec could not breathe regularly for a moment. How could he, with those bewitching eyes ringed in dark makeup and flecks of glitter, long lashes and so close to his own?

 

“S-sleep well,” Alec breathed after a moment, the tension between them feeling almost charged, until Magnus finally took a step back, heading into his own quarters without further ado. It took a moment for Alec to regain his composure, immediately heading for his meditation corner upon entering his own room. The smell of incense calmed his nerves, as did the rituals of cleansing and drying his hands, trading street clothes for the heavy, simple brown robe.

 

Settling into the correct pose was muscle memory, as was the deep breathing, letting the physical world fall away as he turned inward and to the mental one within. His emotions and bonds were laid bare, the chains making each one clear and visible to his trained mental eye: the natural, platonic ones he shared with his family, the spontaneous and deep one he had accidentally forged with Jace so long ago as children wrapped around and within, deep and part of his intrinsic being.

 

And now, these new feelings, sharp and bright despite their lack of clarity.  Physical attractiveness, yes, but also admiration for his mental acuity, his ability to handle people and situations that Alec could never beat, and, if he was completely honest with himself, a striking need to delve in, know more, see beneath and find all of the layers that made this man so captivating.

 

Of course, such investigations would be fruitless, as Alec would only become invested in something that he could not keep, given his familial obligations. He had a duty, to his family and to his people, and he could not allow distractions to get in the way of that. He _would_ not allow it.

 

And so he took a deep breath, examined each shining bauble that represented a memory, an emotion, and gently put it aside.

 

There was no point in dwelling on what he could not have, and suffering for suffering’s sake was not something Alec was keen on doing.

 

This would pass, as all things did, and in the end, he would be grateful for his self-restraint.

 

Eventually.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) ready room-- a sitting room/lounge by the bridge where the captain/first officer can work on things while on duty 
> 
> 2) bondmate- Vulcan spouse
> 
> 3) gorn- giant lizard people. Like tiny dinosaurs
> 
> 4) sehlat - Vulcan wildcats. Some are domesticated and make excellent pets
> 
> 5) katra- the Vulcan soul. Believed to live on forever.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) **ta'al** \--the split hand gesture Vulcans make. The Spock hand thing. They come in peace.
> 
> 2) **Standard** \--the universal language of the Galaxy. Represented by English in the shows/movie.
> 
> 3) **Comm** \--communicators. The walk-talkie stuff they use
> 
> 4) **warp** \-- the measure of how much faster than the speed of light a ship can travel. Warp five is the normal max for a starship.


End file.
